Hermione's American Dream?
by GlarthirSkingrad
Summary: AU: A disillusioned Hermione is fed up with her life and decides to take an unforgettable trip to the real America in pursuit of changing her life and finding happiness. Everything changes when she meets a tall, dark stranger in a bar and he turns her world upside down. Will be Hermione/Sirius.
1. Chapter 1

Leaving the airport, Hermione witnessed American soil for the very first time. Being in the West, everything she saw had a reddish colour, but most significant were the deep red rocks and dust – it really was like the cowboy-movies she had watched as a child. But now there was no TV screen between her and her dream. She had wanted to experience America at least once in her life, so now seemed like a great time. She had gone on this trip alone; she did not like being on her own too long, but she knew that she needed to do this alone. She had to experience this with herself as her only companion. She feared it, but that was what this trip was all about: Conquering the fear. If she ever wanted to feel free just for a while, this was the time to do it. Every negative or sad thought was pushed aside immediately as she focused on taking as much of America in as possible. She wanted to really live life, and now it was going to happen. No more hesitation or fear; just curiosity and moving forward.

She put down her bag on the sidewalk outside the airport and looked towards the sun through her sunglasses. She felt like a celebrity with her sunglasses on, and that was what she wanted to feel like now. She wanted to be able to not care about what other people would think of her. Of course there was an all-clear blue sky, and the temperature was rising above what she was used to. She opened up her bag to grab her straw hat. She had chosen to travel lightly, so the bag was not overloaded with clothes and shoes. Closing the bag again, she put her hand on her money just to feel it against her skin. She had gone to the bank to withdraw her entire savings to spend on this trip, and she carried it in cash – no credit cards; just the real all-American dollar. She put on the hat and combed her long brown hair with her fingers. She thought about dyeing it platinum blonde to try out something new, and while stroking it with her fingers she smiled and agreed with herself: Now was the time for change. She had never taken risks with her hair before, but if this wasn't the time, then when would it be?

She had put on chic gladiator sandals and a pair of short and beige shorts. She was also wearing a tight, white top and on top of that a beige, long and thin cardigan. She would never wear this at home, but she had wanted to wear this outfit for so long. It was perfect for America.

Checking her look in her mirror, she picked up her bag and went to the car rental company to pick up her car. It was a Thunderbird convertible of course, just like in Thelma & Louise. Her taste in American movies had obviously affected her choice, but she did not mind. She loved the movie and this was a small and secret tribute she paid in silence. Finally sitting in the Thunderbird's driving seat, Hermione felt invincible – just like she was supposed to. With nothing but a map, she left the airport and headed towards the real American wilderness – the desert, which was number one on her priority list.

With the music beating, she quickly found herself on the dusty highways stretching though the desert. She felt comfortable and at peace here, driving inside her own American movie. She made a couple of quick stops to breathe in the authentic air and to take it all in. Taking a break by the side of the road, she sat on the trunk and watched the beautiful red and brown colours in the earth, the wild and green colours from the bushes and cacti, the grey road, and on top of it all, the blue sky with the relentless sun burning down. She smiled - it was just like it was supposed to be. She then changed from her sandals into real cowboy boots, since she wanted to find one of those dirty bars built in solitude along the highways in the deserts.

After a couple of hours of driving, she finally found what she was looking for: A lonely bar, covered in dust and dirt, suddenly appeared close to a sign telling the drivers that this was the last place to drink and eat for 50 miles. With a smile on her face, she parked the car next to the bar. "_Dusty Home"_, the sign above the bar said in flashing, neon colours. Even though darkness was rapidly catching up on her, she still had her sunglasses on. She put on her red lipstick and under the shades, she gave her make up a little touch-up. She carefully used her liquid eyeliner to intensely frame her brown eyes.

Entering the bar, she once again found what she had been hoping for: A bar counter to her left where around ten men were hanging out, either talking into their drinks and beers or talking to the next guy. The sound of the closing door made them all look her way, and everyone of them watched her closely. She knew it, and actually she wanted it. Normally she did not want this kind of attention from men, but now she did. She wanted to be desired and make people believe that she was something special. Even the bartender looked at her. Slowly, she took off the sunglasses and with a broad smile on her face, she walked past them and sat down in one of the small booths on the other side of the bar. The room was badly lit – even after she removed the sunglasses. The smoke was thick and so was the smell of beer. She reached out for her mirror, knowing that most of the men in the bar were still looking at her, and put on some more lipstick; not because she needed it, but because it was a sensual gesture she wanted to try out. She could tell it worked, and after only a couple of minutes, a guy approached her with a beer in his hand. With an archly smile, she looked up at him, licking her lips. He looked like a biker, wearing dirty jeans and a band T-shirt. Around his neck he wore some sort of scarf that made her chuckle. He was her age, but his hair was already thin, and it seemed like he was trying to compensate by growing a forceful moustache.

"Such a pretty surprise. Can I offer you a beer?", he said and sat down. She gave him a nonchalant and disapproving look.

"Did I ask you to sit down?", she then asked in a posh manner.

"What?", he said, clearly not able to read between the lines.

"But I'd take that beer", she then said without smiling.

"Okey dokey, miss", he then said, putting his own beer in front of her. With disgust, she looked at the half-empty bottle and the dirty glass.

"Thank you", she then said, taking a sip. She had not been drinking beer for a long time, and within seconds, she could already feel the alcohol's effect. When she did not speak further to him and just concentrated on the beer, he got confused and gave her a look that put his ignorance on display.

"What?", she then snapped at him, "I'd like to enjoy my beer alone".

"What?", he then said, not having a clue. She shook her head and looked past him towards the bar counter. In the corner, one of the men caught her attention. She knew he had been looking at her, but now he seemed lost in a hilarious conversation with the guy next to him. Hermione found herself unable to stop staring at him. He did not look particularly good; actually he looked a bit funny. It was not just his face, but also his clothes. Something about him reminded her of a circus clown. Then he turned his face in her direction and found out that she was looking directly at him. At first, he seemed a bit uncertain about what to do, but then he smiled a confident smile and raised his glass. Smiling almost made him look funnier. He had an oblong-sized face with a remarkable jaw line and thin, dark hair and was probably way past 4o years old. Hermione had never really been attracted to guys his age before, but if she wanted to, then now she had the opportunity to try it out. She named him Joe.

"I just brought you a drink, and now you are sending me away?", the younger guy who gave her the beer then said, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Yes, the lady is implying that giving her a nearly empty and - _dirty_ beer, I might add – is beneath the way to treat a lady. So yes, get out of here", someone then said. Both Hermione and her suitor looked up, and the deep voice came from the guy she had just been day dreaming about - Joe. She felt she was staring to blush – old habit – but quickly, before anyone noticing it, she put on a confident smile and sat back to tell the young guy to get lost.

"But…", he just said, and "Joe" pulled him up in a gentle but firm grip and sent him on his way.

"May I?", Joe politely asked and pointed at the seat opposite Hermione. She nodded.

"I can offer you a beer", he then said, grinning, and pushed the half-empty beer closer to her. She chuckled and smiled her usual sweet smile. She couldn't help it.

"No thank you. You drink it", she answered cheekily and watched his reaction with a devious smile.

"Okay, as you command", he then said, grabbed the bottle and emptied it in a few seconds.

"Ahhh", he said and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"That is disgusting, drinking that beer. You don't know where it has been", she said and frowned. She overdid it to make him believe that she was way more of a prude than she really was.

"I know very well where it has been. In your mouth, and that is a taste I don't mind between my lips", he then said and winked at her. His attitude was too confident, but he seemed to overdo it, which made it funny instead.

"You've been spying on me? Is that what you do around here? You're sneaking around in bars, spying on young girls", she then said, pretending to be offended.

"Yes", he said bluntly and drank the last of the beer. She was unable not to smile; she had never found herself in a situation like this before, being courted so much. A part of her really liked it, and she did not want to stop playing her games.


	2. Chapter 2

Instead of being scared by Joe's honest remark about him being there to spy on her, Hermione felt liberated that finally someone was able to joke around. After so much darkness and seriousness in her life, she needed to feel carefree and easy-going again.

"Buy me another beer", Hermione then said to Joe, touching her hair in a sexy way.

"Sure", he replied and disappeared in the crowd next to the bar counter. With him out of sight, she checked her look in her mirror and felt satisfied. She was curious about what her first night in America would bring. She hoped she had the courage to make it different than the many sad nights she had had at home lately.

Joe reappeared with a bunch of beers on a tray and sat down opposite her. The dusty cowboy music was playing and provided a great backdrop for her new adventure. It was a little loud, but low enough for her to be able to talk to people. She wanted to talk to Joe to find out who he was.

"Here you go", he said, opening up a bottle and putting it in front of her. He had a weird smile: it was some sort of a serious smile wrapped up in a cool attitude, but he did not seem cocky. Well, why would he be cocky here with her, Hermione thought to herself? She was clearly the one who was settling, not the other way around.

"So what brings you to America? You are not from around here", he asked her and watched her face with his semi-friendly smile. It somewhat intrigued her.

"Vacation", she just replied and smiled. But her smile came too late after staring down towards the table, and he knew she was not telling the truth.

"You a serial killer escaping the police?", he then asked her, surprisingly more interested in her. She looked up and watched his hands wrapped around his beer.

"No, I am not", she said with relief. "I just needed to get away for a while, and I had always wanted to see America. You know the West and the South with the cowboys and deserts. We don't have that at home". She leaned back and watched his facial expressions. He chuckled.

"I suppose by home you mean Europe? And I suppose by getting away you mean from your man?", he cleverly asked and pointed at her finger. It caught her by surprise and she looked down at her hand. She was still wearing her ring. Quickly she hid it.

"Yeah, it didn't work out unfortunately, but it is hard letting go. What about yourself?", she said, pointing at his finger. He did not seem as eager to cover this proof of commitment as she had been, but calmly he looked at his wedding ring and stroked it.

"Divorced, but I guess you are right – it is hard to let go", he replied without turning a hair.

"Or maybe you are not married, but you wear it when you go to bars to seem like a perfectly settled guy who is not up to no good?", she said, clearly feeling the alcoholic impact from the beer. She had not been drinking for some time, but now there was no one to tell her what to do. It made her able to be bolder, and that was what she wanted tonight.

"I am really not that smart, I'm afraid, but if you are asking me if I'm free, then I just gave you my answer", he said, lifting his hand to grab hers. Feeling the drunkenness coming over her, she let him do it. She already felt like she was floating away, and that was a sweet and liberating feeling. She just looked at their hands before grabbing his hand and shaking it.

"My name is Marilyn", she then said. He laughed.

"I am Joe DiMaggio", he answered. Now she laughed – it was just like she had planned it.

"I knew you were a Joe", she continued, feeling more drunk as she emptied her beer. Immediately, he put another one in front of her. He was trying to get her drunk, but she just played along.

"Actually my name is Sirius", he then said and smiled to her. She barely noticed.

"Oh, Sirius? That is a terrible name that destroys my scheme", she said as the music was turned up.

"I want to dance. Joe Sirius, dance with me", she then said, getting up. Without a word, he got up too and led her to the small, improvised dance floor. He stood in front of her, putting his arms around her. His embrace was warm and soft and for a moment, she found herself indulging in it. It had been a while since she had felt a man's arms around her, and now she found out just how much she had missed it. It almost made her sentimental, but she stopped herself, when he started moving her to the music. They were standing close, and he was apparently an eager dancer. It amused her, and she had no problem following his lead.

"This is wonderful", she cried out, spinning around until she felt so dizzy that she was barely able to stand. He grabbed her, and she lifted off her hat, placing it on top of his head instead.

"It looks pretty on you", she yelled through the music. He was never really smiling fully, but every once in a while, a smile flickered across his face. It made him look way more handsome, but it did not help a lot, really. She did not really mind; he was still fascinating to her. At least for this night. She had no plans of ever seeing him again after tonight.

When the dance ended, they went back to their table. Being more courteous than she had thought, he did not let go of her hand but led her safely to her seat.

"I want to colour my hair", she then said, all dizzy and drunk.

"Really? What colour? Black? Red?", he asked, and she was surprised that he had been listening. She had actually been talking mostly to herself.

"No, I want it to be blonder. Platinum blonde". She took another sip of her beer, making sure that the fuzzy feeling wasn't leaving her body yet.

"Like Marilyn", he said quietly. She nodded and leaned forward.

"I want to go to Las Vegas and perform as Marilyn Monroe with my new hair", she said, again mostly to herself, getting caught up in day dreaming. "But what do you do for a living?"

"Me? I am a lawyer", he replied. She cracked up, making a mess of her lipstick.

"A lawyer? I don't believe that", she said, realizing that the conversation had become boring. She did not want to talk about everyday things like jobs. Quickly she got up.

"You have a room here, Joe Sirius?", she asked him, clearly suggesting what she wanted to do with her body language. Without him noticing, she pulled her top down a little to show her cleavage. She probably did not need to, but she just wanted to be on the safe side. By the sound of her question, his face lit up, and a faint fear started growing inside her. Was she being too careless?

"Oh yes, I have", he replied. Hermione pushed aside the annoying fear, grabbed the beers and went upstairs with him.

When he closed the door behind them, the music had almost disappeared. The silence was speaking reason, and it was suddenly too loud to bear.

"Do you actually live here?", she asked, looking around. The room was fully furnished. To the left, there was a cupboard, a table and chairs, and in front of her, two big beds. Clothes were lying scattered all around, and it seemed like he had been living there a while.

"No, I am just passing through", he answered politely and walked to her. He placed himself in front of her and looked into her eyes. She did not particularly like the view, but it excited her.

"Are you going to kiss me now, Mr. Stranger?", she asked him like a little girl and tried to mess with him by looking all innocent.

He did not reply but put his hand behind her neck. The silence made her worry, and that feeling started to spread in her entire body. His grip was firm but not hard and within seconds, he drew her face close to his and kissed her lips. First tenderly and then more passionately. For a moment, she let herself get lost in it and enjoyed his touch, and she did not resist when he put her down on the bed. He lay down on top of her and kissed her upper body. She tried to relax and enjoy it, as he seemed to be rather experienced, but suddenly she felt scared and pushed him aside. He almost fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I can't", she said, feeling exhausted. He looked confused.

"Really. I am sorry. I can't go through with it", she said, glancing at her ring without really noticing.

"I get it. He is still there. You want him back", Sirius said and sat down on the other bed, buttoning his shirt.

"I am afraid that's impossible", she replied, suddenly feeling all sober. But as she tried to stand up, she realized that her body was not sober, and she fell to the ground. Half awake, she felt Sirius placing himself behind her, pulling her up. As he put her down on one of the beds, she was unable to stay awake any longer...


	3. Chapter 3

Smelling scrambled eggs and fried bacon, Hermione woke up early next morning. It was a struggle opening up her eyes, but she finally managed. After a while, she was able to get up and remember parts of last night. She sat up on the bed and looked at the man sound asleep in the other bed.

"Sirius", she said to herself. Then she remembered how she had flirted with him, and she immediately looked down to check if she was dressed. Luckily she was; actually she was fully dressed and had been sleeping the whole night under the soft blanket that Sirius apparently had put around her. That made her smile and feel a bit relieved, too. If he had been a bad man, he could have hurt her really bad, but he had not.

Turning her head, she looked at her nightstand. She got up and picked up a bottle she did not recognize.

"Viva Las Vegas", she read aloud and realised it was hair colour. The model on the cover had the very hair colour she wanted to have. It was shiny and thick too. Hermione smiled again and went into the bathroom with the bottle. What a nice gesture, she thought.

Less than an hour later, she opened up the bathroom door again and stepped out a different person. She was dressed in a sleeveless, knee-long dress, high wedges and a denim bolero, but the main attraction was the hair. Admittedly not as thick and shiny as the girl on the cover, but as blond as her, Hermione found herself overly fond of her new hair. She put on red lipstick and the dark sunglasses, and then she felt like a million bucks. She felt the need to look in the mirror over and over again while giggling and smiling, trying not to wake up Sirius. Then she used her Polaroid-camera, took a picture of herself and put it on Sirius' nightstand. She signed it "Lots of love, "Marilyn" – see you in Vegas". Then she closed the door behind her, grabbed some eggs and bacon to go and went on her way. She put her bag and the bottle of hair colour that reminded her of her destination on the front seat next to her and drove towards the fabulous Las Vegas.

It was a long road through Arizona, but Hermione did not mind. She kept trying to empty her mind and forget all her sorrow, but it kept coming sneaking back. For the first time ever, she had no major plans about anything, and that made her happy and frightened at the same time. Every once in a while she cast a glance at the hair colour bottle and thought of Sirius. In her ideal version, she would already have forgotten him by now, but reality was a dish that tasted a bit different. There had been something about him that she was unable to put her finger on, and even out of sight, he kept popping into her mind. Taking one more glance at the bottle, she turned the car around and headed back to _Dusty Home_. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, and it made her feel disappointed in herself that she was unable to stick to her original plan.

"Life keeps changing your plans", she then said to herself, which of course made her think of Ron. The relationship with him had not turned out the way she had thought or ever imagined.

The time was not even noon yet when she parked her car in front of _Dusty Home_ again. She felt the eagerness inside her build up and she did not know whether or not she liked it, but she sure felt a bit excited. First she went into the bar, but Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe he sleeps in", Hermione said to herself, climbing the stairs. The cleaning lady was busy cleaning up their room, so the door was open. Quickly, she went to the open door, but it was too late. The room was all tidy now, leaving no traces of him or her – not even the picture she had left for him. Disappointed, she went downstairs to the bar. Cautiously, she approached the bar counter. The bartender was cleaning some glasses, and two or three regulars were enjoying the day's first beer.

"Hey there, miss. Anything I can do for ya?", the bartender asked and looked at her from underneath his chunky and round glasses. He was wearing jeans and a coloured shirt like everyone else here in the Southwest.

"Uhm…", Hermione nervously started, "I was here with a guy last night. I left, but I went back for him", she said, aware of the attention from the whole crowd. That made her uncomfortable, since she knew how it sounded.

"He had something of mine, and well, he doesn't seem to be here anymore", she continued.

"Was it the funny-looking business-guy in the suit?", he asked her.

"Well, I don't know if he was wearing a suit, but he is definitely funny-looking", she said, almost laughing to herself while saying the last part.

"From room 6?", the bartender asked.

"Yes, that is him. You know where he went?", Hermione eagerly asked him. Unaware of it, her eyes were now smiling and hopeful.

"Yeah, he went towards LA", the bartender said and put down the last glass. Then he opened up a can of beer and placed it in front of her.

"It's on the house", he said.

"LA", she said to herself and took a sip of the beer. She did not want to admit it, but she felt saddened, "I am not going to LA just yet". Grabbing the can, she left the bar and continued her planned journey. Nothing was going to come between her and Las Vegas now. No trouble, no conscience, no men.

The heat kept on rising on her way through the desert, and the relentless sun kept trying to burn her and her fragile scalp. She put on her hat while twirling her long hair between her fingers. Every time she looked into the rear-view mirror, her new look took her by surprise, but it was the good kind. She really liked the change and felt excited for the next change as well: It was going to happen in Las Vegas, where one of the big cabarets was hiring Marilyn Monroe look-alikes for a new show. She smiled and felt amused at the same time. Who would have thought that she of all people was going to perform as a high-class show-dancer in Vegas?

She drove the entire day, witnessing one natural wonder after the other. It was wonderful scenery, and she took it all in. She eagerly used the Polaroid-camera to capture everything she wanted to remember forever, and whenever possible, she tried to be present in the frame too. It was mostly to be able to see more of her new look. Out of nowhere, right as the evening started catching up with her, she drove past a diner. Immediately she stopped the car. The diner looked exactly like the American diners from the 1950s that she had seen in movies. The white and soft pink colours, the sculptures of Elvis Presley and pictures of black and white movies. She parked the car in front of it and went inside. _The Real American Diner_, a sign said.

"You're right about that", Hermione said to herself, smiling. It did not seem to be a busy night, but a couple of families and a group of friendly-looking bikers were sitting in small booths, enjoying their huge burgers. Hermione checked her makeup in her mirror to make sure she looked her best, and then she sat down at a table next to a booth where a family was eating. It made her feel less alone.

"What can I get you, miss?", a waitress suddenly said. She had appeared out of nowhere and was wearing a lovely white 50s dress and an apron in a mild shade of pink. Her hairdo was tight and her makeup old-fashioned.

"Ah... What they are eating", Hermione answered and pointed towards the family next to her. They were all eating delicious-looking burgers with juicy fries and big cups of Coca Cola. They noticed it, the waitress took the order, and Hermione smiled embarrassedly at them.

"I am sorry for disturbing you. Your meals just looked so tasty", she said, smiling her best smile.

"That is no inconvenience at all", the mother said. She was chubby with a round face and friendly eyes. Her husband was bigger than her, looking like a factory-worker with almost no hair and a wristwatch so tight it seemed to stop the blood circulation. He looked nice too, though. So did their two well-behaved children, who were eating their burgers in silence. The youngest was a girl around 10 with pretty curls and a girly dress. The boy was a couple of years older. He had thick glasses and was reading a geeky comic book while eating. "Nerd", Hermione thought and a faint smile appeared on her lips; he seemed cute to her.

"Oh, good", Hermione replied to the mother.

"Where are you from, sweetheart?", the mother then asked. Hermione answered and found out that the family were Americans, living on a farm. Before Hermione's food arrived, the family had invited her to join their table. This young creature seemed to interest them.

"Well, Ron here, my husband, he is too cheap to take us to the Canyon more than once a year", Cindy the mother then said in a thick American accent. She grinned and gave her husband a sweet slap across his chest. The name Ron made Hermione shiver.

"You know, the Canyon – that is culture. It's great for the kids", Cindy continued, smiling and laughing. Hermione nodded. They were so American, and she loved spending time with them.

"Mom, can I have extra fries?", the boy then suddenly said, looking up from his comic book.

"Better watch out that you don't end up looking like your parents", Hermione thought to herself, watching the boy who was normal-sized for now.

"Of course you can, honey. As many as you like. We are on vacation", Cindy said, caressing the boy's hair. Of course that made him turn away, but she didn't notice.

"Where are you heading?", Ron the husband then asked Hermione.

"Las Vegas. I really want to experience it. You know, see what all the fuzz is about. I have an aunt in LA, and after Vegas I am moving out to see her. She is an actress", Hermione then found herself lying. This could be a different part of her.

"Really? An actress? Do we know her?", Cindy asked, too enthusiastically.

"Well, yeah. She has been in some movies. Her name is Lena Olin. Maybe you have seen _Chocolat_?"

"I simply love that movie", Cindy said, clapping her hands. Hermione ate the last part of her burger and sat back.

"Yes, she is quite famous. She has promised to take me to some castings. You know, to try out acting. Normally, I am a singer. Not so big here in America yet, only in Europe".

"Are you Rihanna?", the girl then asked. It was the first time she had spoken at all. Hermione chuckled.

"No, I am not Rihanna. My name is Robyn. I make dance music these days. But maybe I will try out something different, I don't know". She tried to be as relaxed and cool as possible, and it seemed to work. The entire family seemed to be in awe, and then the boy woke up and played an actual Robyn song on his phone. It sent shivers down Hermione's spine.

"So you do know me!", she said, trying to stay cool instead of crumbling.

"This is so awesome, can I have your autograph?", the boy asked. Hermione nodded and handed out her very first autograph ever – and probably the last too!

"This is so out of the ordinary, meeting someone like you out here in the middle of nowhere", Cindy then said while offering to pay for Hermione's meal.

"That is kind of you. Thank you. But money is not a problem. I inherited a fortune after my husband killed himself", Hermione then said casually. That made them silent and attentive.

"Yeah, he was a tortured artist. A writer. He died for his art. When the inspiration did not come to him anymore, he decided it happened for a reason, you know. He believed that his art wanted him to die too, and then he hung himself. Jumped out of the window from the 5th floor with a rope around his neck", Hermione calmly told the astonished family.

"Thank you again for the meal", Hermione then said, got up and went to her car. It felt great leaving people with a strong impression.


	4. Chapter 4

Walking away from the astonished family, Hermione couldn't help but laugh quietly. Her walk was strong and confident, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught glimpses of other guests watching her closely. She couldn't help but like it. She knew she looked great and for once, she enjoyed the positive attention. At home, she had been almost invisible, but here she was greatly noticeable. It was a new feeling, and she took it all in.

On her way out, she went to the counter to talk to the waitress that had served her the meal.

"Hi there", Hermione said, chewing a gum and playing with the sunglasses in her hair she had quickly grown so fond of. The waitress approached her with some sort of awareness.

"What can I do for you?", she asked Hermione, openly bedazzled by her attitude.

"I really like your outfit, and I am going to my little sister's party tomorrow. She has planned this big 50s-themed party with pastel colours, cupcakes, balloons and pretty dresses", Hermione told her while bending down over the counter to gain eye contact with the waitress.

"And unfortunately, I kind of forgot about the whole party and therefore I also forgot about finding a proper dress", she continued, smiling to the waitress. "And then I saw your pretty dress. By the way, you look stunning in it". The waitress almost blushed, hearing Hermione's compliment and brought a modest thank you over her lips. She was about 45 years old and time had not been good to her. Her skin was wrinkly and uneven, and the makeup was given no chance to work its miracles on this canvas.

"You don't have a spare one, do you?", Hermione then asked in a hushed voice, smiling her prettiest smile.

"Well", the waitress said, "I really don't know", and she looked around to check if anyone was approaching them.

"I am Jane, by the way", Hermione said, offering the waitress her hand. Her nails were long and perfectly coloured in a pale shade of pink. Hermione looked at her own nails, and realized that she had forgotten all about nails when trying to look dazzling and irresistible.

"And your nails are just beautiful. Have you ever considered becoming a beautician?", Hermione said, turning on the charm.

"Oh, don't you say so", the waitress said, all shy. She did not receive compliments well.

"Oh, yes I do", Hermione said, letting go of her hand.

"Oh, you are just too kind. Well, my name is Betty, and as a matter of fact, I once went to beauty school, but it wasn't all I thought it would be. You know, mean girls and horrible teachers. It was just too difficult. But then I met James. Oh James, he could get away with murder. You see, he was my sweetheart", Betty the waitress started reminiscing, suddenly forgetting all about everything around her. Quickly, the conversation started to bore Hermione.

"Did this James go to beauty school too? Let me guess, he turned out to be gay – and he left you for a man?", Hermione interrupted, leaving Betty looking surprised with her mouth wide open.

"Oh, no dear, I am just kidding", Hermione continued, realising that Betty seemed hurt by her assumption, "tell me all about wonderful James, the hairdresser". Betty hesitated for a moment.

"James did not go to the school. He was the brother of one of my classmates. Her name was Candice; she was a real beauty with flaming red hair. James had blonde hair though. He was so handsome, and of all the pretty girls, he chose me. He could have had anyone, but he wanted me", Betty kept on telling her story, all lost in her trip down memory lane. Hermione had no interest in the story, but suddenly she took pity on the ageing and apparently lonely woman.

"Tell me more", she encouraged her. Betty's eyes lit up.

"Well, he invited me to a school dance and we danced all night. I was proclaimed queen, and I had never felt so proud. I was only 18 and all absorbed in the love I felt. You see, James was my first love. And last too really, but I don't want to bore you with that sad story".

"Oh, do tell", Hermione said, more interested in when things went wrong.

"As you can guess, I got pregnant, and reluctantly he finally married me. He did not want to play house, so our marriage felt like a burden to him. For me, it was actually wonderful. Dropping out of beauty school was sad of course, but then I had a husband I loved and a child on a way. A proper little family. For a while, I felt happy, but then James left me. He wrote me a letter and left for Vegas with some friends. The petition for divorce arrived in the mail two days later. I was eight months pregnant at the time and I had no job", Betty said and Hermione felt sorry for making her tell the sad part of her love story.

"I feel bad for you. He was an asshole, that James", Hermione said, offering emotional support. Betty looked at Hermione, almost in shock.

"Asshole? No, I loved James with all my heart. I still do, I guess. And I did manage to keep afloat after giving up the baby. My childless aunt and uncle adopted her – her name was April – and she has been given a better life. I still see her every now and then". Betty's eyes started getting teary and Hermione offered her a tissue.

"I know how you feel, Betty. I really do. I lost my own child", Hermione told her and looked down shamefully.

"Oh no, what happened?", Betty asked. Hermione faked some tears.

"He was a beautiful baby boy, my precious Sam, but he died on a trip to the playground. For a moment, I did not pay enough attention, and then Sam had fallen off the swing. Head first. Broken neck", Hermione said and let a tear roll down her cheek.

"When my husband found out, he went crazy and nearly strangled me. I was in the hospital for three days, and after getting out of there, I had to first bury my baby boy and then divorce the man I thought was the man of my dreams".

"More like the man of your nightmares, dear", Betty said, all caught up in the story.

"Yeah", Hermione said, wiping away the tears, "but I am free now and going to my sister's party tomorrow. She is only seven, so when I see her, I see Sam too". She smiled at the end of the sentence.

"You know what, wait one second", Betty then said, leaving Hermione. When she reappeared, she was holding white fabric in her hands. She handed it to Hermione.

"Here, take the spare dress. I want you to have it", she said with a smile. Hermione unfolded the dress and looked at it proudly. It was perfect for her Marilyn-act.

"Are you sure? I really can't accept it", Hermione tried to seem modest.

"No, you take it. Take it and wear it for Sam", she said, grabbing Hermione's hand.

"Okay, I will wear it for Sam. For Sam and April", Hermione said, shaking Betty's hand and getting up. She sent one more smile towards Betty before finally leaving _The Real American Diner_.

Outside, it was already dark and a bit chilly too. Hermione instantly went to her car. She had never slept in a car before. Now was the time to try it. She put the roof back on and made the backseat her bed for the night.

The next morning, Hermione woke up early. Sleeping in a car was not as easy as in the movies; Hermione felt all sore and tender. She looked at her watch: 5:26 AM. It was too early for her, but the sun was already up. Feeling tired, she stretched out her body and went outside. A fiery red sunrise was happening in front of her, and she sat down on the hood to watch it. She wrapped herself in a blanket and leaned against the windshield. Her eyes were completely mesmerized, but soon her mind started to wander off again: She started questioning herself about her newly-found lying skills and the deprivations she was clearly still suffering. Not wanting to let the worries in, she got up again and went straight for the driver's seat. Then she hit the road, heading for Las Vegas once again.

She had a beautiful view of the sunrise all morning while driving thought the desert. Nothing eventful happened, and she only made one stop at a decent-looking gas station. She bought some canned soup for breakfast and visited the bathroom to clean up. She removed the old makeup and applied new to look her best. She put on short denim shorts, a tight white top and a beige vest. She combed her somewhat dry and fragile hair and tried to make big waves in it, but it was a struggle in vain. Black eyeliner and red lipstick were her best friends today, and leaving the bathroom that seemed so old that it threatened to fall apart, she once again felt like a different person. A person she felt comfortable breathing in. Then she went back on her way.

Driving for another couple of hours, she was finally able to see it: Coming closer was the fabulous Las Vegas where she would hopefully find the answers to her questions. The darkness was falling too, which made it more perfect – now the neon lights were burning even brighter, welcoming her.

"The city of sin", she said to herself, smiling a devious smile. But the smile soon left her face when she realized that there was no one to see it. She did not have to act when there was no one around to observe her.

Quickly, she hit the Strip alongside thousands of other cars. Everywhere, cars were honking and people shouting, and it made her feel alive again. Alive but yes – it also gave her that inevitable feeling of being lonely. And with that came vulnerability. Before it managed to overpower her, she shook her head clear and headed for _The Mirage_ – the hotel that would be her new working place. Driving past it, she saw the posters about the Marilyn audition. She smiled and parked the car as close to _The Mirage_ as possible. Then she found the nail polish in her bag and carefully painted her nails red like her lips. She was ready to become Marilyn.


	5. Chapter 5

After another night of sleeping in her car, Hermione dressed herself as Marilyn, and with a little finesse she managed to pull it off – at least she thought so: Very blonde hair, the white dress and the red nails and lips. She might not have Marilyn's curves, but she had the personality, and with that in mind she walked into _The Mirage_ and found the auditions for the Marilyn Monroe show. A fat, baby-faced woman in her 40s was in charge of the sign-up. She was dressed in a pink shirt that made her face look even more like a pig. She had partly curly brown hair that had already started thinning and changing colour towards the whiter shades.

Having signed up, Hermione walked into the audition waiting room, where around 50 other Marilyns were waiting to give the performance of their lives. Every Marilyn spent most of their time sending the other girls evil stares, and Hermione was no exception. She had to admit that some of the girls really impressed her with their attitude and appearance, but most of the girls looked like hillbillies who had no idea what Marilyn really was: The symbol of female power expressed through sex.

Hermione had to wait several hours before getting her shot. She kept on reading the directions for the audition: Each girl was going to show off their best Marilyn poses and a dance performance. After all, the Marilyn show was going to be a dance show, and Hermione had no reason to believe that she couldn't pull the dancing part off too.

Finally her number – 264 – was called, and confidently she walked into the audition room. The doors closed behind her and in front of her two judges were sitting.

"Hi. And you are?", the male judge said. He was sitting very comfortably in his soft chair, leaning back with a pen between his fingers. He was kind of old, but certainly good-looking. He had dark, short hair and dark eyes. When he spoke, he had a thick American accent. He smiled a lot but Hermione did not sense that it for was her. He was probably smiling to himself after seeing all those sexy girls performing in front of him, trying to win him over. He was not chubby, but not really thin either and he was dressed in tight clothes: Leather trousers and a black mostly-buttoned shirt and on top of that, a grey waistcoat. He definitely made Hermione feel something.

"Hi. I am Marilyn, of course", Hermione cheekily answered and smiled his way.

"That is something we haven't heard before", the female judge said. She was bitchy-looking with long auburn hair and the face of an unfortunate-looking witch. All she needed was a pointy hat and a wart on her nose to complete the look.

"No one has meant it like me before. No, I am Hermione all the way from Europe. I have been in several plays in my home country, but now America is definitely my aim", Hermione then said, mostly to the man. She looked at him and decided to call him Tom. He was definitely interested in her already. She smiled seductively and pulled her dress down a little to show the curves of her bosom. It sort of excited her.

The music started to play and she made the best Marilyn poses she knew how to do. The witch had a stone face, but Tom nodded his head to the music.

After the poses, she had to dance. She put her heart and soul into it and made a sexy dance, often maintaining eye contact with Tom. When the music stopped, she felt alive again.

"Thank you, Miss Hermione. Please wait outside with the other girls", the witch said carelessly and pointed towards another door. Hermione made a curtsy and left the room, looking at Tom.

Hermione stepped into another room with around ten other Marilyns, who had already been performing. They had to wait there while the judges made their decision. A couple of new Marilyns entered through the door. The first was almost in tears. Hermione did not wonder why: this girl was dressed all wrong in a turtleneck dress that had no sex appeal at all. Her hair was not even platinum blonde either. The second girl, on the other hand, was strolling by her with her head held high, barely noticing the other girls. Hermione had to admit that she had a great presence and all the girls seemed to be drawn to her. She might not look like Marilyn that much, but that did probably not matter. She had something, and that something was way more interesting. Hermione was sure she was going to pass the audition. They needed 50 girls, and around 600 girls were trying out their luck as future cabaret stars.

Finally the doors opened up, and the girls eagerly and nervously approached the judges. Hermione made sure she was in the front to be noticed by Tom. The witch had left.

"Alright girls, we have made our decisions. Three of you have been chosen. And the lucky three are Wendy, Rosalita and Mary", Tom then said.

For a moment, Hermione froze. That couldn't be right. Behind her, she heard laughter, joy and crying, but she just stood still. While black-haired wig-wearing Wendy, Indian-looking Rosalita and freckled Mary were thanking Tom and jumping out of the door, the other girls picked up their bags with a heavy heart and left the room sobbing. Hermione still hadn't moved.

"I am sorry, Miss", Tom then said when she kept on lingering. Hermione looked up; she did not take no for an answer. She walked closer to him, smiling and looking sad at the same time.

"Can you tell me what I did wrong, Sir? I thought I did great", she said intriguingly. Again she pulled the upper part of her dress down, while pulling her skirt up a bit. She could sense his stare and knew that he desired her.

"Well, you were good, but unfortunately not good enough", he said, not as kindly as she had hoped.

"Too bad, but I promise you, I _am _good enough", she said, slipping a little piece of paper in between all the papers in front of him. "Here, this might change your mind". Before he was able to answer, she had left the room smiling again. She had written her telephone number on the paper and attached a somewhat naughty picture of herself.

Quickly she found her car and changed her Marilyn clothes to forget the failure. She kept telling herself that it was not a total failure just yet – she was sure Tom was going to call her later. After putting on a short and tight summer dress, she applied more eyeliner and took a stroll on _The Strip_. Darkness was falling and she had nowhere to sleep. Not yet anyway. The casinos were everywhere, and she really wanted to try her luck on the roulette, but her thoughts of the audition kept her from doing it. Instead she found a bench outside one of the biggest casinos and sat down to study people. A lot of really happy people were hurrying into the gambling dens, and a lot of not-so-happy people were leaving. Next to the casino was a wedding chapel, and she watched several couples visiting it. Some were wearing real bridal wear, while others were in trashy white dresses and T-shirts. Vegas really was something, she thought to herself.

After an hour, it finally happened: Her phone made a noise and a new message had arrived. She did not recognise the sender, but inside the message was the name of a hotel and the address. She smiled; it was definitely from Tom. Instantly she got up and found a map. The hotel was only two blocks away, so she was there in a few minutes. Her feet were sore from wearing the high heels, but the soreness of her feet was diminishing as she got closer to the hotel. Instead her body was filled with excitement and thrill. She knew what she had to do to get the part in the Marilyn show, and she did not find that price too expensive. She was after all a single girl looking for fun.

Arriving at the hotel, she was taken aback. It was a splendid place filled with luxury and extravagance. She loved it and felt like the queen she was supposed to. She found the lift and went to the 10th floor. The hallways were covered by thick, red carpets, and the walls covered in creamy white paint with flowers. When she was standing outside room 1004, she knocked on the door after looking in the mirror. She looked her best and felt confident too.

Tom opened the door with a drink in his hand and his shirt buttoned up. She smiled a sexy smile and walked past him. The room was as beautiful as the rest of the hotel and it was loaded with plenty of drinks and excess.

"You want a drink?", he then asked her, barely seeming to notice her presence.

"Sure, thanks", she said and sat on the bed. His presence made her feel all electric and excited. She watched his body move, and she liked what she saw. He turned around and handed her the drink. She grabbed it and finished it quickly. He looked at her, impressed.

"You really are eager", he then said, almost just like a statement. She got up and moved closer to him. Her heart was pounding and thrilled.

"So you changed your mind? I passed the audition after all?", she then said. It was not really a question; she just needed to be sure. He smiled and looked at her face. Then he looked at her body and cupped her breast with his hand. His touch made her all weak. He squeezed it a little and it made her moan.

"Yes", he just said and put his other hand on her breasts, "you are very convincing".

She did not wait for him to undress her. She took off her dress and pulled him towards the bed. His eyes were mesmerized and filled with desire. She sat down on the bed again while taking off his shirt and unbuttoning his trousers. He did not move but he was already eating her with his eyes. When she had undressed him, he took charge and eagerly removed her underwear. Then he put her back down on the bed and placed himself on top of her with his hands everywhere on her body. His touch was not soft, but she did not mind his roughness. It was not how she preferred lovemaking, but she did not resist. She had to sacrifice something to get what she wanted, and she was okay with that.

On top of her, he put his hands between her legs and started rubbing her. It turned her on and she started touching his manhood too, which was nearly ready to explode, it seemed. He was moaning loudly, and after penetrating her with his fingers, he passed this pleasure on to his penis. He was a bit forceful with hard thrusts, but she was able to stand the pain. It did give her pleasure too and she did not want to tell him to go slower. After a while, her body got accustomed to his rhythm and her level of pleasure was rising. When she felt that he was close to reaching his climax, her body no longer wanted him to stop, but then he stopped moving inside her, pulled out of her and turned her around to finish in another position. A position that she did not like, but she let him pull her up on her knees before he entered her again. It only took a couple of thrusts for him to come, and after climaxing, he almost collapsed in the bed next to her. Without a word, he pulled the blanket around him, finished another drink and went to sleep. Hermione did not really know what to do. But since she needed a place to sleep, she put her underwear back on and lay down next to him. She clearly still fancied him, and being so close to his naked body kept arousing her. But finally, she fell asleep too.

Hermione woke up the next morning, feeling the burning sun against her face. She opened up her eyes and saw Tom getting dressed. He still looked great, and seeing him shirtless made her smile again.

"Good morning", she said. She almost startled him, and he turned around to face her, looking confused.

"Yeah, I am leaving now, but you can stay here for a couple of hours", he said, grabbing his wallet.

"Okay", Hermione said, feeling confused too. "What about the show? When do I have to show up for rehearsal and stuff?".

"Ahem... well, I am sorry, but I don't think it will work out. We have the girls we need, but try a place down the Strip. It is called _The Dark House_. They might have something for you", he then said and tossed her a card.

"But…?", Hermione just said, but it was too late. Tom was already out the door. She looked at the card, ashamed. She sighed and felt like an idiot. This place looked like a whorehouse. She had gambled and lost, and now she was feeling the pain of losing in a game she thought she was good at.


	6. Chapter 6

After getting rid of the worst shame, Hermione got dressed and started exploring the hotel room. Tom might have left her here like a cheap slut, but after all, there was something he did not know about her, and with a devious smile on her face, she couldn't help but think that in the long run, she would be the winner. She contemplated the thought of finding him and telling him her secret but decided not to, since she wanted him to think that he won, only to find out soon that he would turn out to be the real loser. And this was not only in the game of sex, but in the game of life. He would realise soon enough.

Forgetting all about Tom and last night, Hermione played a small game of imagination as she pictured herself living like this every day and being a princess in the beautiful surroundings. She loved being around pretty things, and everything here was splendid in every way. Especially the bathroom with the great, soft white towels with the name of the hotel written on them in golden letters, the dreamy mirror with the golden edges, and the bathtub that was so big that she was able to swim in it. She smiled as she pulled off her clothes again and turned on the hot water. She added plenty of foam and jumped into the bubble bath, almost head first, and experienced that the cleansing water and soap purified her body and soul again. After the bath, she got dressed again, stole a couple of towels and left.

The morning in Las Vegas was warmer than the hottest summer days back home, but she did not stay in the shade. She walked proudly and confidently in the sun where she belonged. After finding her car, she took another look at the card from _The Dark House_ and decided to give it a try. Driving there, she left the nice part of town and headed into the shadier parts. Here there were no extravagant casinos and hotels, only dirty roads and lousy gambling dens. She drove past a worn out motel with flashing lights and a couple of soiled bars before finding _The Dark House_. It was indeed a _dark_ house: The front used to be painted in dark purple colours, but the paint had either faded or been ripped apart. The windows were small and half of them broken. Above the big doors was a sign saying that they were hiring women to act as Marilyn as they were changing their theme. _From what_, Hermione thought to herself, _whorehouse from the 70s_? But it was her best option after all, so she had to give it a try.

She parked the car and went straight across the road and entered the building. It was even scarier looking on the inside. To Hermione, it looked like a mixture between a horror house from cartoons and a brothel from Paris. To her left was the bar and on the right the stage. And yes, there was pole dancing too! The light was heavily subdued, and the dark red and deep purple lamps were doing their best to provide some sort of lusty atmosphere.

Hermione went to the bar.

"Hey, where do I audition for the Marilyn part?", she asked the waitress. She was dressed in short denim shorts, a fake tan and a cowboy shirt pulled up to just under her breasts which, by the way, were huge and fake. Her hair was bleached and looked almost yellow, and underneath her blackish roots were showing. The hair was held back tightly in a pony tail, and her face was covered in multicolour makeup products. She looked like a mess.

"In the back, honey", she said while chewing her gum. She pointed her fake, pink nails towards a door. Hermione thanked her and moved slowly to the door. She opened it cautiously, and in the back was a private area where two men were sitting on soft couches covered with violet velvet. Hermione had never seen a tackier place than this.

"I was told I should audition for the Marilyn part back here?", she asked, not sounding as confident as she had hoped. The two men looked at her with interest, and she felt uneasy. They did not have friendly faces. There were both sort of fat with beards and almost no hair, and they looked like dirty and unwashed truck drivers.

"You've sure come to the right place, miss", one of them said getting up. With stars in his eyes, he approached her and sized her up with his eyes.

"Can you dance and perform?", he asked her, putting his hand on her chin.

"Yes, and sing too", Hermione said, feeling a bit scared by his touch.

"She sure is pretty", he then said to his partner and put both his hands on her hips, "with a gorgeous body". Hermione did not know what to do.

"You are hired, babe. Only, you have to prove yourself", the other guy said, walking up to her. He was a tall and fat man, and what was left of his hair was pulled back in a tight pony tail. He was dressed in smelly and untidy clothes: a pair of old jeans and an almost unbuttoned shirt with squares. He was wearing sunglass too, even though the place was so dark Hermione could barely see clearly, and looked about 50 years old.

"That is fine. I can show you my moves", she replied, trying to move away as he started feeling her shoulders.

"Carl here is interested in your dancing moves; I am interested in different moves, if you get what I mean", he then said, putting a finger under the shoulder strap of her dress. She felt paralyzed as he slid his hand under her dress and felt her breasts.

"She any good?", the first man asked.

"Oh yeah", the untidy guy said and squeezed her breast. Then she pulled away.

"What are you doing, you creep?", she shouted. The men just laughed.

"Don't you need the job, honey?", he said approaching her again, trying to put his hand on her hip, "and the money too, darling?".

"No, no I don't", Hermione then said, pulling away. Inside her, a sudden fire started burning, and in the heat of the moment she raised her hand and slapped him across his face with all the power she could muster. It almost knocked him over.

"Don't you ever do that again", she then shouted, turned around and fled the place. She ran so fast that she almost tripped several times in her high heels, and she did not turn around to see if anyone was following her. Despite the cars on the busy road, she just ran across and entered her car. It took her a moment to find the keys, and then she turned on the ignition and drove away like a mad person. Her heart was racing, and her pulse beating. She kept on driving for more than half an hour before she managed to calm down a little. America had not turned out the way she had hoped yet, and her hope was sinking with great speed. She had come here to find something extraordinary and to be something. All she had been was a fool on several occasions. And she was supposed to meet fantastic people who were able to enlighten and amaze her life. So far she had almost only met assholes. She needed something good and positive now.

To experience something great, she headed back to the real Las Vegas with all its lights and glamour. She stopped in front of another wedding chapel that offered a wedding lunch, American style. She needed to try that out, so she combed her hair in the rear view mirror and fixed her makeup to look good. She managed to smile; there were no exterior signs of her interior bruises. She entered the wedding chapel hall and headed into the cafe area with its wedding theme with everything in bright and white colours and flowers everywhere. She ordered the wedding lunch and got a real American brunch plate with a big slice of cake too. Of course she was drinking Coca Cola, and her spirits were quickly rising again.

After finishing her meal, she took a couple of deep breaths and went outside on the streets of sunny Las Vegas. There was still so much good out there for her. On her way out, she passed a couple of newlyweds, and their smiles were contagious. The last couple consisted of an almost bald and small man with a nice face dressed in a grey suit and his bride – a tall, slightly older woman but still with a youthful face. She was wearing a stunning gown in a creamy shade of white. It was long with a sweetheart neckline and lace all around the upper part. She was wearing a veil too, but she had pulled it away from her face and was holding a girly bouquet of flowers in pink nuances. They looked so happy and were busy kissing and caressing, but somehow they still managed to take notice of Hermione and tell her about their happiness. Somehow that made Hermione smile too, even though it reminded her a bit about Ron. It was okay, since no one here knew her or recognised her. Ron had really been something – for better and for worse, and she was quite sure she would never meet someone like him again, but then again – maybe it was a good thing. He had given her the best moments of her life, but he had also provided her worst moments. Right now, seeing the happy couple, she only thought about the good ones. But of course that made her sad too, knowing that she would never experience any of these moments again or reach new ones with him.

A little saddened again, she walked outside and suddenly she was where it had all begun: In front of _The Mirage_. She sighed and looked up upon the splendid place. She had to find another dream. While she was busy in thoughts of pursuing new dreams, a car pulled up beside her on the sidewalk. First she did not notice, but when it lingered, she turned around.

"Just like I pictured it: You in front of your dream", a man in the car then said. Hermione recognised the voice and bent down. He was driving a deep red Cadillac.

"Sirius?", she shouted out, filled with more joy than she would have ever imagined.


End file.
